His Butler, Taking Snapshots
by Captain Spunker
Summary: The life of a 19th century butler is quite laborious. The life of a Phantomhive butler is laborious AND zany. From infiltrating a secret society of cat-worshippers to dodging the advances of a lovestruck viscount and shinigami, Sebastian's trials and tribulations seem to never end. How is a young demon to cope with all that? Well, if he couldn't, what kind of butler would he be?
1. His Butler, Damsel in Distress

**Hello, everyone! Captain Spunker here! Here's another fic for you to enjoy!**

 **Recently I started watching the English dub of Kuroshitsuji/Black Butler- and immediately fell in love with the show. Sebastian is a work of art, I have to say, although unlike other fans, I'm more inclined to put him through hell (pun intended). So I began writing different scenarios where he gets into crazy situations that would rattle even him. I do hope I've succeeded.**

 **Like, comment, review, no flames or profanity please! Also, any ideas for future snapshots are much appreciated!**

 **I do not own Kuroshitsuji or the characters. The plot for this chapter is based on Episode 4, "His Butler, Capricious."**

* * *

"What is it, my lord?" Sebastian asked. "You've been very thoughtful all day." He glanced at something in Ciel's hand. _Hmm._ "An invitation?"

"Yes. To a ball held by Marquess Avery, no less." The young Earl Phantomhive laid the gilded white card on his desk. "This is our chance to investigate whether or not he's connected to the cultic murders. Of course, if we went as ourselves, he'd recognize us immediately."

"What do you suggest, my lord?"

Ciel leaned back in his chair. "Soma and Agni have been invited to attend as well. We might as well go with them in disguise."

"I see." Sebastian smirked. "Having a repeat of the Viscount Druitt incident, then, are we?"

"With one difference. Avery won't give the time of day to a short woman like Elizabeth. He prefers," and Ciel gave him a nasty grin, "women who are taller, much like he is."

Sebastian blanched in horror, and his stomach flopped. "M— My lord! Surely you don't mean—"

"Are you questioning me, Sebastian? You do know that I could order you to do it and you would have no choice but to carry out my order."

The youthful butler sighed. "While others may find it entertaining, I myself have no interest in crossdressing. I prefer to dress in what polite society expects men to wear."

"Oh? Says the demon who wears high-heeled boots as part of his true form. Come to think of it, you've never shown me the whole of that, not even when we first met."

"I assure you, my lord, that while the boots appear feminine, the overall effect is quite masculine, you see. The outfit itself doesn't pass for inappropriate. I do have standards, you know."

"So you'll follow your standards instead of just going along? That's quite a shame; I _had_ hoped I wouldn't have to resort to this." Ciel lifted up his eyepatch and slipped it off.

"Young master, please! Don't make me do this! We can go as we did before—"

" _Silence!_ " Ciel glared at the raven-haired man. "You will _go_ to the ball dressed as a woman, and you will _not_ complain about it, nor will you try to even _think_ of getting out of it! This is an _order!_ Do you understand me?"

Sebastian's heart sank. He bit his lip, bowed, and gave a timid "Yes, my lord."

 _I'm doomed._

* * *

 _R-R-RIP! R-R-RIP! R-R-RIP!_

Sebastian gasped in pain. "Y-Young… master—"

"Don't even think about it, Sebastian."

 _R-R-RIP!_ "My l-lord," Sebastian panted, "please—"

"I said don't even think about it."

 _R-R-RIP! R-R-RIP! R-R-RIP!_

"G-GAAAAAAHHHH!" Sebastian screamed.

"There we go. Nice 'n tight." Bard firmly tied the corset strings and tucked them in. Sebastian choked out a sigh of relief as he slumped to the floor, his arms wrapped around his waist.

 _Can't breathe… so tight… I didn't think this kind of pain would get to me, but I feel like I'm being crushed and suffocated to death…. It's sheer agony…._

 _Is this what my lord felt when he had to wear this before? He must be getting back at me then._

"Come now, Sebastian, you're not fully dressed yet!" chirped Ciel and clapped his hands. "Do be a dear and stick it out. After all, if you can't endure this when _I_ could, what kind of butler would you be?"

Sebastian gritted his teeth and crawled his way up to a standing position, his left arm still around his waist. He sighed as the other servants bustled around him, preparing him for the ball.

 _Ciel's right. I have to get through this. I have to withstand this pain and make it through so we can obtain the information we need._

As they traipsed downstairs, he did some breathing exercises to take his mind off his discomfort and make sure he didn't become lightheaded.

* * *

 _"_ _Here's the plan. Soma and Agni will go just as they are. I will be Soma's blind and mute aide and Sebastian will be his lover. Bardroy will be Soma's associate. Sebastian, you will get close to Marquess Avery and persuade him to go somewhere else in the mansion." Ciel sat back as the carriage came to a stop. "Is everyone clear?"_

 _"_ _Absolutely!" "You got it, master!" "Perfectly clear, my lord."_

 _Ciel grinned. "Excellent. So begins our game."_

Now Sebastian stood at the edge of the crowd, keeping a sharp eye out for the marquess. The Indian prince and his entourage were enjoying themselves among a little group in the corner, so he was alone.

 _Thank goodness for my meager shapeshifting skills._ He had shortened himself to an ordinary five-feet-six (no normal woman would be as tall as he usually was!), softened the angles of his face, and altered his vocal cords so his voice would sound genuinely feminine (because while Ciel could pull it off, Sebastian, being a grown man, could not). In his human form he couldn't alter much, so he was grateful for the few changes he was able to get away with.

 _Honestly, though. It made_ ** _so_** _much more sense when Ciel was Madam Red's niece and I his private tutor— why couldn't we continue with that arrangement and have Soma and Agni as family friends? …But if someone here was part of Druitt's inner circle and witnessed the whole thing, and then found out who Ciel really was, he wouldn't be fooled a second time. So I suppose you could say this was a wise choice on his part. Though I still think this is partly payback for having to endure that wretched viscount and his antics._

He glanced over at the young earl, who wore traditional Indian garb and a blindfold made out of material such that he could see through it, but others could not. His hair had been dyed black and a beauty mark placed on his cheek. Bard didn't look _too_ uncomfortable in his tuxedo; in fact, he seemed to be having a good time. Soma and Agni wore their usual clothing.

Sebastian himself was dressed in a lavender evening gown with silvery accents and white lace. Long white gloves covered his arms up to mid-bicep, and he carried a white lacy fan. His raven hair had been done up in a French twist with a few strands of his bangs hanging free, his eyes sported subtle makeup, and his lips glimmered a deep, wine red. A diamond hairpin, bracelet, and necklace finished off the outfit. When the young butler had looked at himself in the mirror after the others had finished fussing over him, he had nearly passed out at the sight of the… admittedly… gorgeous woman that stared back. He couldn't bear to accept the thought that he had the potential to appear completely feminine. _When this is all over, I am never crossdressing again. Not even if my life depends on it. Or Ciel's, for that matter._

"Goodness me, what do we have here? A lovely little blossom like yourself should be enjoying the party, not acting like a sad little wallflower!"

Sebastian glanced up in the direction of the voice and into the flabby face of Marquess Avery.

Ciel had been lucky (if one could call it that) that Druitt had been rather handsome. Avery, on the other hand, was tall and fat, with beady black eyes, thinning black hair, and a greasy smile. If Sebastian was a blossom, then Avery was a beetle. _This just keeps getting better and better,_ the youthful demon snarked in his head. Still, he managed to give the marquess a pleasant smile and curtsy. "You flatter me, my lord."

"Oh, not at all, my sweet lilac! I merely speak the truth! Though I daresay I've never seen such a beautiful bud as yourself before. Would you like a dance with me?"

 _Heavens, no!_ "I suppose, although I admit I'm bored of dancing as it is."

"Ah! I see! Shall we go find some… other amusements instead?" Avery slipped his hand around Sebastian's waist and fingered his hips.

Sebastian resisted the urge to shudder and forced out a light chuckle. "Why, certainly, my lord! Why don't you lead the way?"

They made it halfway across the ballroom when Sebastian's superhuman hearing picked up a familiar squeal. "Ooh! That lady in the lavender dress looks simply stunning! She's the prettiest of them all!"

 _Oh, dear Lord, no! Not this again! I can't let Elizabeth see me like this!_ He peeked over his shoulder. Sure enough, Lizzie had spotted him and was heading straight for him. _Master!_

 _What is it?_ Ciel replied down the bond.

 _I'm with Avery, but Elizabeth's seen me! We need to distract her now— she's heading right for me!_

The teen gave him a mental eyeroll. _Stupid butler, don't you remember that Avery scheduled a little show? It should be beginning any moment now._

He was right: the ballroom dimmed and lights flashed on a stage, revealing three men in tailcoats. Upbeat music played as they danced, their shoes clicking and shuffling. _Interesting._ He had wanted to learn how to tap dance for some time now, and these men obviously knew their craft.

Avery yawned. "I've seen this all before, my lady. Would you mind if we continued to those other amusements we spoke of?"

"But of course, my lord. Anything for you." _Oh, wonderful, I'm turning into Grell._

They slipped out of the ballroom and up several flights of stairs. By the time they had reached the top floor, Sebastian was panting, though he did his best to conceal it. They marquess opened a door off to the side and ushered the younger man in. A single bedside candle lit the room, much of which was cast in shadow; an enormous king-sized bed stood behind the nightstand on which the candle sat.

Sebastian gasped for breath. _Can't… breathe… stupid corset… Don't feel so… good…_ His vision blurred and his head swam. _Must stay… alert…_

His knees gave out, and he fell to the floor in a dead faint.

* * *

Voices murmured overhead in the darkness, which dissolved into light. Sebastian cracked open his eyes and stared up at the ceiling above him.

 _What… what happened?_

"Tonight we'll right the wrongs done to us by the Queen's Guard Dog! Tonight we'll finish repaying the blood he has payed us! Tonight it all ends now!" cried a man above him. Sebastian turned his head in the direction of his voice— and beheld Marquess Avery in a black robe and mask!

 _Well, this is proof enough that he's the perpetrator,_ the young butler thought. _Best get out of here as quickly as I can._

 _How did I get here, anyway?_

 _You fainted,_ Ciel answered dryly. _I saw it happen through your own eyes. Don't think you'll be able to live this down for the rest of your life._

 _Well,_ ** _you_** _fainted last time, my lord, so there._

 _The Viscount had a special drug in the air, you idiot! I didn't do it on my own! Apparently you're weaker than I thought._

Sebastian had prepared a retort when the Marquess flashed a dagger over him. He made to move and found he had been gagged and chained to the altar on which he lay. "This darling little bud has volunteered to be this evening's sacrifice. Why don't you give the brave dear a hand, ladies and gentlemen?" Applause rose at the madman's words.

 _Well, this is just lovely. See, young master? If you were the girl this time, I could have rescued you. Now I have to get out of this myself._ He glanced down at the chains, which were black and carved with red runes, thrumming with energy.

 _Oh, shoot._

The chains were demon-proof.

 _Hang on, Sebastian!_ Ciel called, sensing the young butler's distress. _Agni's heading over there right now. He should be there any minute._

Sebastian gazed with dread at the knife as Avery brought it down towards his heart, the blade shimmering with the same runes and black material as his bonds. _How could he have known?_

 _BLAM!_ Agni crashed into Avery, knocking the dagger out of his hand. The Indian butler then wasted no time in making quick work of the other cultists, and just as he finished, Ciel, Soma, and Bardroy burst into the room. Ciel ran over to Sebastian and tore off the gag. "Are you all right? Are you hurt?"

Sebastian coughed and winced. "I'm fine, thank goodness. Agni managed to get here just in the nick of time. Though I'd rather not go through that again."

"Here, Ciel!" Soma reached up from where he knelt over Avery's body and handed the earl a key that matched the dark chains immobilizing Sebastian. "Those are some very strange cuffs."

"They emanate evil energy, my prince! Stay away from them!" Agni cried and stepped in front of Soma. The Indian prince frowned.

"Why would someone want to put Sebastian in evil chains? They must be crazy!"

"Well, I can't break out of these chains like I could with ordinary ones," the ravenette replied as Ciel finished unlocking the cuffs. "Agni, Bard, would you help my young master? These are wrapped all over the place."

The three untangled the young butler and helped him off the altar. Sebastian slumped to the floor and wrapped his arms around his waist as he panted, sucking air into his lungs. His vision blurred and swirled. _That's not good. Why do I feel so dizzy all of a sudden? Maybe I stood up too soon? Darned corset!_

"Sebastian?"

Sebastian leaned back against the altar and looked up into Ciel's face. "Don't mind me, my lord. I just stood up too fast, that's all."

"Ah. I see. Agni, if you could carry him out to the carriage? I don't believe he's able to walk just yet."

" _WHAT?!"_ Sebastian squawked. "Honestly, I'm fine!" He stood up and promptly sank back down again, woozier than before. The others laughed as Soma's khansama scooped him up bridal-style.

"Not so strong and tough, are ye now?" Bard teased. Sebastian rolled his eyes.

"Oh, do shut up, Bard. Unless you want your safety threatened," the young demon grumbled.

* * *

"So Avery and his compatriots are in custody," Ciel mused the next day. "Where do you suppose they got the demon-proof chains and dagger?"

"I could be wrong, but it's possible either another demon or even a fallen angel supplied them to the Marquess. Demon-proof items, as you can imagine, are nearly impossible for humans to obtain."

The teen nodded from his seat next to Sebastian's bed. Last night had taken a toll on the young butler, and even as he lay in bed, he could still feel the effects of the poisoned chains. Apparently he'd been bound in them for much longer than he'd thought, and they had significantly drained his strength and stamina to the point where he could not sit up without feeling dizzy. Ciel had insisted that he recuperate until he was back to full health.

"So you think a demon or fallen angel was behind Avery's cult?"

"Well, that would explain how he knew to use those particular chains on me and me specifically. If I recall correctly, his words were to 'right the wrongs done to them by the Queen's Guard Dog' and 'finish repaying the blood you paid them,' so perhaps he thought he could get to you by killing me? Although… he didn't seem to realize that I'm not a woman…. It doesn't make any sense…." He closed his eyes.

"Never mind that, Sebastian. You rest and let me get to the bottom of this." Ciel stood and turned to leave. Just as he reached the door, Sebastian called out,

"Young master?"

"Yes?"

"Never make me wear another corset ever again. They seem to be made to crush the living daylights out of me."

Ciel laughed. "Good. We agree then." He left the room and closed the door, leaving the ravenette to get some well-earned rest.

* * *

 **It's the infamous corset scene! That was the whole point of this chapter, but I couldn't very well write only that scene without an entire adventure around it now, could I?**


	2. His Butler, Symphonic

**Yay, another chapter! This is one of my favorites and is sort of crossover-y. It also has elements of another fic I've been working on (and I probably should've posted that one first. Oh, well. When I do get it out, I'll update this author's note).**

 **I don't own Kuroshitsuji, BBC's Sherlock, or "Night Vision," "We Are Giants," and "Swag," which are products of the wonderful Lindsey Stirling! If you haven't, go listen to those three songs as you read this fic- they're described in the story and are kind of essential to it. You'll get the full experience if you listen to them.**

 **Like, comment, review, no flames or profanity please!**

* * *

Sebastian poured a cup of Earl Grey and handed it to Ciel, who took it and sipped as he read a sleek pamphlet. "A musician's competition?"

"Well, since you're so good at the violin, I thought I might have you enter. Should be entertaining, don't you think?"

Sebastian raised an eyebrow as he cut a slice of cake and served it to the teen. "Is there some sort of ulterior motive you have in attending this competition, my lord?"

"Yes, actually, as a matter of fact." From his breast pocket Ciel produced a letter adorned with a black seal. "Mr. Spears requested that we investigate this individual. Apparently he appeared out of nowhere and entered the contest as a violinist. The Grim Reaper Association is very alarmed at his presence, and our job is to find why he's really here."

The ravenette accepted the file Ciel offered him and scrutinized its contents. His eyes fell on a photograph of the man in question. _Interesting. Tall, pale skin, dark curly hair, pale eyes, thin nose, cupid's-bow lips, slender body, feminine hands. Dressed like a gentleman, but he doesn't look very comfortable in his clothes._ He read the name listed at the top of the page. "William Sherlock Scott Holmes? That's a rather odd name; I wonder if our dear Arthur was inspired to name his protagonist after this man."

"That's the problem: Mr. Holmes didn't even exist until just recently. Arthur couldn't have gotten the name from him."

"I don't understand. What do you mean, he didn't exist? Surely he must have just been on the run and created a new identity for himself—"

"That's what I thought at first, but then I read the rest of the file."

Sebastian frowned. "Age: twenty-seven years old. That's strange, the date of birth has been left blank. But if the Grim Reapers don't know his birthdate, then how do they know his age?" He leafed through the rest of the file. "His family members' ages and birthdates are missing as well. In fact, all of the dates are missing from his file, except for the ones at the very end. I suppose those are around the time he caught the attention of the Reapers?"

"That's not all." Ciel handed him the letter. Sebastian took it and read it.

"They say his file isn't supposed to exist yet— wait, not supposed to exist yet? What on earth?"

Ciel rested his chin on his folded hands, elbows on the desk. "All but the most recent dates are missing… that must mean that those dates haven't happened. In that case, the man hasn't even been born yet. I believe it's safe to say that he's a time traveller from the future."

 _Well, that explains why he's unaccustomed to those clothes,_ Sebastian thought. "And so we are to uncover his reason for arriving at what would be the past for him. Perhaps some great calamity occurs and he's come to stop it?"

"Or to ensure its success. That's why we need to enter in the competition. I'm not good enough to pass, but you could easily win. After you enter, you need to get close to him and find out what he's up to."

Sebastian bowed. "Certainly, my lord. I will not fail you."

* * *

 _This is a bit reminiscent of the curry competition, isn't it?_

Sebastian stood backstage, tuning his violin and listening to the other performers' chatter. A total of eight people, including him, had entered the contest: two pianists, a cellist, an opera singer, a flutist, a harpist, and of course, the mysterious Mr. Holmes. The latter sat in a dark corner, his features cast in shadow. Seizing his chance, Sebastian walked over to the man and offered his hand. "I don't believe we've met before. Mr. Holmes, is it? My name is Sebastian Michaelis."

The man stood and shook his hand, his eyes narrowed. He spoke with a smooth, musical baritone voice. "You are correct; my surname is Holmes. Pleasure to meet you, Mr. Michaelis."

"Oh, do call me Sebastian. We are fellow musicians, are we not?"

"Indeed. In that case, you may call me Sherlock."

Now that Sherlock was out of the shadows, Sebastian noted that the photograph hadn't quite done the young man justice. His dark locks glinted with a hint of brown, and his skin glowed like creamy porcelain. The faintest blush of pink colored his full lips, and his lashes were long and dark. But oh! those eyes! They sparkled like magic, the pupils rimmed with gold and green and surrounded by crystalline blue, a small speck of brown above the pupil of the right eye. Sebastian gazed into those eyes and _knew:_ this man was very special. _And it's not the fact that he's a potential time traveller; there's something unique about him, but I can't put my finger on it. How odd._

"So! What do you think? Is this your first music competition?" the young butler asked in an attempt to make conversation.

"Hmm. Competition, yes, although I have showcased my music before. I'm a bit curious, though, as to why a butler like you is competing; your master doesn't seem to need the money."

Sebastian stared at him. "My, you're certainly observant."

Sherlock scoffed. "It's my job to be observant— I'm a consulting detective. The only one in the world, in fact. I invented the job, after all."

"So you're a fan of Arthur Conan Doyle, then? You're doing an interesting impression of his protagonist, if I may say so myself. Am I to assume that 'Watson' is somewhere in the crowd and this is all part of a case?"

The brunette gave him a strange look, and Sebastian swore he turned deathly pale. "Sherlock? Is something the matter?"

"No, I'm fine. I just realized something just now, that's all."

Sebastian opened his mouth to apologize, but one of the pianists called out to them instead. "Oi, you two! We're supposed to be out there!"

The two men rushed over and followed him onstage.

* * *

"Ladies and gentlemen, I present to you the contestants of this year's Classical Performance Competition!" said the announcer as the performers filed onstage. Sebastian and Sherlock stood next to each other and waited for his speech to end. "First up, we have Gerald Simmons on the piano!"

The two waited backstage as the others performed, one by one. Finally they heard, "Next up, Sebastian Michaelis on the violin!"

Sherlock gave him a small smile. " _Merde,_ " he murmured. At Sebastian's confused frown, he chuckled. "It means 'good luck' in the ballet world."

"I see. Thank you." Sebastian smiled back.

As he came out onstage, he thought, _I will win, young master. You have ordered me, and I will follow your order._

* * *

"Amazing! Truly beautiful! A masterpiece!" the announcer exclaimed after Sebastian's solo. "And the judge's scores are in! A perfect ten!"

While Viscount Druitt babbled on about his performance, Sebastian slipped backstage. "And finally, performing on the violin, Sherlock Holmes!"

The audience whispered in bewilderment. "Sherlock Holmes?" "Are you sure that's what he said?" "Is he like the character in Doyle's stories?" "What's he doing here?"

"Good luck," said the ravenette as the young detective passed him. "You're going to need it."

Sherlock ignored him and went onstage.

Sebastian and the other performers crowded around and peeked between the curtains, waiting anxiously for Sherlock to start. His perfect solo had left the young demon very confident in himself, and he suppressed a smirk. _He seemed to know the basics of playing the violin. I don't know how much experience he has, but I doubt he'll be able to best me. That is, unless he's lucky._

Sherlock exhaled a small breath. He plucked a couple measures of notes on the strings, then laid his bow on them and began to play.

Sebastian blinked. The music pulsated and was nothing like he'd ever heard before. _And who's performing the percussion? I'm certain he's not the only one playing! A single violin can't possibly put out all that!_

The music softened— he was plucking the strings again— then got louder, and his playing became more passionate. He moved his whole body as if the music was in control of it. Just as the music crescendoed, it turned extremely rhythmic, and his dancing (for that was what it was) became stiff and sharp like an automaton, interspersed by smoother bits. Then came a part with some very fast and tricky fingering, but Sherlock played it flawlessly, all the while smiling with joy. He plucked the strings some more, then replayed the beginning section, with some variations. Now he was at the passionate part again, and Sebastian bit back a gasp as the auditorium darkened. The judges glanced at each other, unsure of what was happening.

Then Sherlock's violin began to glow a sharp blue, and as he pirouetted, the young butler caught a glimpse of his eyes— they were glowing blue as well! He continued to the rhythmic section, and Sebastian found himself both mesmerized and disheartened. _There's no way I could win the competition now. I must have underestimated him— but what if he's using black magic?_ But the energy emanating from the brunette was far too pure and bright to be dark magic. As he played the difficult section and finished with some more plucking, Sebastian shook his head. _Someone's helping him win_.

After he finished, the auditorium returned to its normal lighting. The audience sat in shocked silence for a moment. Then they leapt to their feet with thunderous applause! Sherlock smiled and bowed.

"What strange tones! But so beautiful!" Viscount Druitt cried. "The notes are like shining stars in the night, twinkling brightly as they look down from the heavens! The melody is like the moon, guiding the listener to the performer's heart! What soulful strains! What fascinating beats! This, this is the beginning of a new era of music!"

"A straight eleven! It appears as though young Mr. Holmes is the winner of our competition! Congratulations, sir!" The announcer shook Sherlock's hand. "Pardon me for asking, but wherever did you hear such music?"

"Oh, I didn't learn it from anyone," Sherlock replied. "I was only following the notes of my heart."

Sebastian frowned. _I_ ** _will_** _find out his secret and expose him._

* * *

Afterwards, Sebastian had packed up his violin and met back up with Ciel outside the theatre. "Well, Sebastian? What do you think?"

"To be honest, my lord, that was quite a performance on Sherlock's part. He certainly went to a good deal of trouble to win the prize money that I find it a bit odd."

"Is that what you thought I was here for?" The two whirled around to find the young detective standing behind them. He tsked. "I have no need for money. Really, Sebastian, I thought you were more intuitive than that. How disappointing that you're not."

Sebastian opened his mouth to retort, but angry shouts cut him off. "'Ey! It's the bloke who won the contest! Get 'im!" The cellist and one of the pianists charged towards Sherlock, who tossed the sack of prize money at their feet. They stopped and stared at him.

"What the hell?!"

"That _is_ what you wanted, yes?" Sherlock replied. "You're angry at me for winning the competition because you so desperately wanted the prize. _I_ have no interest in it— you might as well take it."

The men sneered at him and pulled out loaded revolvers. The brunette took one look at them and, violin case still strapped on his back, bolted.

"After him!" the men cried and chased him down a nearby alley. Sebastian glanced at Ciel.

"My lord, your orders?"

Ciel lifted his eyepatch, exposing the pentagram on his right eye. "Apprehend him for questioning, Sebastian. That's an order!"

Sebastian bowed his head. "Yes, my lord." Then he took off in pursuit of the young violinist.

As he ran, he heard music of the same strange style as what Sherlock had played in the competition. _Someone's singing, too. I can sense the same exact bright power that flowed from Sherlock when he played. Is someone helping him escape?_ He leapt up and ran along the top of the buildings, always keeping the young detective in his sights. At one point Sherlock's pursuers lost sight of him, but they continued after him. Then Sherlock reached a busy street and stopped. He looked around, clutching his case strap over his chest, his face full of fear, and proceeded to cross the street, dodging and ducking out of the way of carriages and cars. Then his chasers arrived and foraged their way towards him. The young man slipped into an alleyway just before they could catch him and ran until he came upon a dead end. He skidded to a halt and whipped around to face his pursuers, who had accumulated to about ten men, all burly and armed with different guns.

Sebastian reached the building to Sherlock's right and stood ready to leap in front of him to protect him. But instead of pulling out a weapon, he slung his case off, bent down and opened it, and retrieved his violin and bow. The atmosphere vibrated with magic and music, building and rising, and Sherlock's eyes glowed with the same eerie light as before.

Then he began to play, and the air burst with sound and light and energy. Sebastian froze in shock as a bubble of light formed around the dancing musician. The other men shot at him, but the bubble shielded him and reflected their attacks. Slowly he levitated and rose up out of the alleyway and over the buildings, streams of light and melody emanating from his shining heart and spreading out over the city. The youthful demon could only watch, entranced by the display of sheer beauty and power surrounding the young detective.

 _I don't understand— is this all_ ** _his_** _doing? Are these his powers I'm witnessing? Is this what makes him so special?_

Sherlock floated down on the roof and finished playing, the music and light fading away. The men in the alley dropped to the ground, unconscious. Sebastian stared at them, then back at the brunette, for once rendered completely speechless.

"You have questions, don't you."

The raven butler blinked and nodded. "Then perhaps you could lead me to a place where we can speak in private?"

"I-I… Yes, yes, I can, I… Do you mind if my master is there?"

"He's the one behind the investigation, he might as well join us."

Sebastian nodded again. "Very well, then. Follow me."

* * *

The trio, along with Will Spears, Ronald Knox, and Grell sat in the Undertaker's parlor with beakers of tea while the Undertaker munched on biscuits. Will adjusted his glasses with his pruning shears. "We haven't got all day, Mr. Holmes, so if you would be so kind as to hurry it along—"

"I'm a Heartsong."

The dark-haired Reaper raised an eyebrow at the interruption. "I beg your pardon?"

"A Heartsong? What is that?" Ciel asked. Sherlock glanced at the violin case and sighed.

"A Heartsong is a person— a musician, really— whose heart produces melodies of immense power. When the Heartsong plays these melodies, he releases this power out into the real world, and the music sounds exactly how he hears it in his heart. Often his powers transport him to otherworldly places and scenarios or protect him and others from danger, like the piece I played when I was trying to escape from the men who were after me. Other times, the Heartsong uses his magic simply for the enjoyment of his audience, which is what I did at the music competition."

"Are you saying you could have played something different and not used your magic to win?" Sebastian exclaimed.

"I didn't use it to win; in fact, I didn't need to. The thing about a Heartsong's power is that the Heartsong has no idea when it will activate. It's very difficult to predict these instances. Sometimes his emotions trigger his powers, sometimes his situation triggers them, and sometimes they're triggered when he's in danger. I think that I could have played without them at the theatre, but something in my circumstances activated them and I was swept along in my music."

"So my excellent playing must have done that," Sebastian mused. "Do you think your powers forced you to travel through time?"

Sherlock nodded. "Yes. A dear friend of mine, a fellow Heartsong, decided to play some music from a Japanese show called Black Butler and invited me to join in. We played three songs together, our powers activated, and after the third song, we both fell into this world. She deduced that we would have to play three songs in the style of our time in order to make it back. She was able to leave; I, however, have not been able to yet."

"And you need your magic activated in order for this to work? You can't just play this music normally?" Ciel questioned.

"I'm afraid so. Victoria managed to use her powers almost immediately and played the songs in quick succession. Unfortunately, her music didn't make its way into my heart, and now I'm stranded here until my magic triggers again."

"And you have one more song left to play, correct?" inquired Will. "And you need something to activate your powers."

"That's right. I wonder… perhaps I could play for you all and see if that works." Sherlock took out his violin and bow as the others made space for him and sat along the edges of the room on coffins.

The moment he touched his bow to the strings, beautiful music spilled out into the room. His eyes lit up with joy, and he danced, the melody and beat in full control of his body. Everyone gazed on, enraptured. As he continued, the floor began to glow around him, and when he finished, he vanished in a flash of blue light.

Undertaker spoke first. "Goodness me, he's the most amazing Heartsong I've ever heard! I wonder who'll be the lucky Reaper to come get him when it's his turn to die?" He chuckled. Grell rolled his eyes.

"He's the only Heartsong you've ever heard, Undertaker."

Undertaker held up a finger. "He's actually the third."

"Oh?" Will frowned. "I've never even heard of them before."

"They're extremely rare, you see. They were a little more common back in my day, but any young Reaper who was assigned a Heartsong's file had the privilege of listening to their wonderful music through their cinematic records. I was very, very fortunate myself— assigning _two_ Heartsongs to a Reaper was unheard of!" He chuckled again. "Those two were amazing, but that young man outshone them both! Hee hee! He's probably the most powerful one to date! And he's got a Heartsong soulmate, from the looks of it!"

"Hey! His file is missing!" Ciel exclaimed. Sebastian glanced down at the teen, who held the envelope that had contained Sherlock's file— only now it was empty. Undertaker shrugged.

"Guess he made it back to his time period, then, eh?"

As they left the funeral parlor, Sebastian couldn't help but sigh wistfully.

 _I wish I could be a Heartsong like him._


	3. His Butler, Caught in Choreography

**Another songfic! Hee hee! But I just couldn't resist. I especially like the concept I came up with for this one. However, I apologize in advance if this is a little too dark. But then if you're not looking for dark, then why are you a fan of Kuroshitsuji in the first place? XD**

 **Don't own Kuro or OVERWERK's "Odyssey," the "soundtrack" behind this story.**

* * *

 _"_ _Who… who are you?"_

 _The girl smirked. Somewhere in the room, strange and frightening music played. As she stepped toward the young man, he got a glimpse of her full features. She was slim with a perfect hourglass figure and wore a long-sleeved, high-collared, sparkling black unitard with hints of red. Her hair was dark brown, almost black, and her eyes were bright red. She wore black eyeliner and crimson lipstick, and her feet were bare._

 _She held out her hand toward him. "Come. Dance with me." Her sharp, fang-like eyeteeth caught the light and glittered._

 _He took a step back. "W-What if I d-don't want to?"_

 _Her eyes flashed. "You have no choice."_

 _She forced him to dance to the music. Every time he tried to stop, he couldn't— his body was no longer under his control. The girl danced along with him, but unlike him, she seemed not to tire. With every step, his feet dragged; with every twirl, his arms grew heavy; with every leap, his lungs scrabbled for breath. He thought his heart might fail from sheer exhaustion. Then he was falling, falling, falling to the floor and the mysterious girl was towering over him, her smile cold and cruel._

 _"_ _I want to see you dance until you die."_

Sebastian gasped and sat bolt upright in bed, panting and drenched in sweat. He stared out into space for a few moments before he fully came to his senses and shuddered. _Why would I ever have a dream like that? Why, for that matter, would I even dream in the first place? I don't normally fall asleep._

 _Perhaps I've been working too hard lately and my body needed rest,_ he mused. _But still… the girl in that dream… and I was watching it happen through someone else's eyes…._

He decided not to think anything of it and got up to prepare for the day.

* * *

"Hmm. Strange. Have you read the papers, Sebastian? There's been a string of murders lately that involve young men in abandoned ballet studios. The men look as if they've died from exhaustion, but when the autopsy is performed, all of their blood is missing." Ciel gave the paper to the young butler.

Sebastian scanned the contents of the article. "And yet there are no visible marks on them?"

"Correct. There should be no reason why they're missing their blood. That's not all, however. In every site has been found a drawing on the wall in blood."

The ravenette turned the page and beheld a photograph of the crimson outline of a pair of pointe shoes on the wall where the last murder had taken place. He frowned. _Wait. This place seems vaguely familiar…. Where have I seen it?_

"This is all very peculiar, my lord," Sebastian mused. "Has Her Majesty ordered you to look into this?"

"No, but I've no doubt she will soon. I want to consult with the Undertaker and see if he knows anything. From the looks of it, we could be dealing with something supernatural, judging by the absence of blood and the men's exhaustion. Prepare my carriage, Sebastian!"

"Yes, my lord."

* * *

They met Will and Grell at the Undertaker's parlor, oddly enough. "Well, well," said Will, adjusting his spectacles with his trimmers. "If it isn't the Phantomhive boy and his demon butler. How annoying. I do hope you don't make more overtime for me."

Ciel ignored him. "We're here for information regarding the 'Pointe Shoe' murders, Undertaker."

"That's what we're after!" Grell exclaimed. "Oh, how exciting is this, Bassy? Working together to solve the case of a dastardly serial killer, hmm?" He nudged Sebastian and winked.

The teen raised an eyebrow. "Is that so?"

"I'm afraid it is, Lord Phantomhive," Will replied. "You see, the killer teleports his victims' blood out of their bodies and uses it to paint the shoes on the wall. Not only that, but their souls and cinematic records are in tatters."

"Really? Who could do such a thing?" Sebastian queried. "Do you think a demon is behind this? Or is there some new creature that we've yet to encounter?"

"We're not exactly certain," cut in Grell, "but witness reports say that apparently the men were fine the last time they were seen. Some people think they were lured away and killed, but we're not sure. There's not that much we know about the events that happened during the murders."

Undertaker held a finger up. "None of the men made contracts with any demons. I looked for the presence of the marks myself, but there weren't any. The strange thing is that the men are all stunningly beautiful, no matter what station of life they come from."

"DO you think someone is taking revenge against handsome young men, then?" asked Ciel. "And any ideas as to why they singled out these men in particular?"

"Afraid not, my lord. Of course some of them are extremely rich, but the others are not. And besides, none of them knew each other, according to their relatives or their cinematic records."

"I thought their cinematic records were in tatters?" pointed out Sebastian. Undertaker snickered.

"In tatters, yes— but not incomplete. Well, except for the part where they died, that's always missing."

Ciel frowned. "Well then. It looks like we all have our work cut out for us. Sebastian, I want you to track down the killer and bring him in. Work with the Reapers to get it wrapped up quicker. That's an order!"

Sebastian bowed. "Yes, my lord."

Will sighed and adjusted his glasses again. "I suppose we have no choice. But I'm warning you, demon: I'll be keeping a sharp eye on you. A very sharp eye indeed."

"I wouldn't expect anything less from you."

* * *

 _The moon is out tonight._

Sebastian sighed from his post near the door to the last abandoned studio at which the killer had struck. _He might not strike here, though, or even tonight._ He snuck a peek at his pocket watch. _It's only seconds to midnight now._

Just as midnight struck, a deep chill slithered down Sebastian's spine, making him shudder. His vision switched, and he found himself running after a dark figure down an alleyway a few miles from his original post. His limbs moved with a mind of their own, but when Sebastian caught a brief flash of his arm, his eyes widened— he wore a completely different outfit! _What is happening to me?_

He sprinted indoors and up a couple flights of stairs before he reached a large dancing studio and stopped for breath. The figure he'd been pursuing turned, and Sebastian gave an internal gasp. _That woman! It's her! From my dream!_ The very same events that happened in his dream played out here: the girl, the dancing, the dying…. He felt himself slip into darkness….

"Bassy! Oh, honestly! _Bassy, wake up this instant!"_

"H-Huh?" Sebastian opened his eyes. Grell's worried face hovered above his own, and Will stood in the background, his arms crossed and a vein in his forehead bulging.

"Really, Michaelis? You couldn't stay awake on the job? My, you're weaker than I thought."

Sebastian started. "That dream! It visited me again! I must have blacked out while it was going and—"

"We don't have time for your 'dreams,'" Will interrupted. "While you were incapacitated, the culprit struck again. I suggest you move now before someone tampers with the evidence."

Grell helped the young demon up, and the three took off toward the scene of the crime. But as they ran, Sebastian began to recognize the area around them. _Wait a moment… I saw this in my dream just now! This is the studio I was in!_ They burst in the room, and Sebastian gasped at the scene in front of them. On the wall in front of them dripped the killer's signature artwork, the blood fresh and warm. In the middle of the floor lay a gorgeous young man as though he had fainted, the material of his sleeve matching what Sebastian had seen in his dream.

"We were too late." Will glared at Sebastian. "The killer must not be far away, so prove yourself and capture him at once." The ravenette didn't respond. "Well, don't just stand there!"

"I… know… what happened here," Sebastian murmured. "I know… who did it…."

The two Reapers stared at him. "You do?!"

"I saw it right before my own eyes! That wasn't a dream, it was a vision! I witnessed the murder as it was happening!" The youthful butler paced. "I saw it the last time too, but back then I thought it was merely a dream…. But now that I know what the killer looks like—"

"Hold on, Bassy! You saw everything that happened here _in a dream_ and you expect us to be able to find the killer based on what he looks like?!"

" _She_. It was a woman. She had dark hair, red eyes, and pale skin, and she was wearing a tight black costume with hints of red."

"Ooh, I like her already," Grell gushed. "Excellent choice of color, I must say."

Will sighed, adjusting his glasses. "How are we supposed to find her based on that description? For all we know, she could be one of thousands of demonesses."

"If you'll just give me a moment." Sebastian found a paper and pen in his coat pocket and sketched out the woman for the other two to see. "There. That's what she looked like. The only time I've seen her has been in the visions, and she doesn't look like anyone I've met before."

The dark-haired Reaper groaned. "This was a waste of time. If you continue to hinder us, I will not hesitate to kill you, Michaelis. You have been warned." He turned to leave. "Harvest the victim's soul and then meet me at the Undertaker's, Grell."

As they left, Sebastian thought, _It wasn't my fault! I didn't know the vision would come to me again!_

* * *

As could be imagined, Ciel was irritated with his butler's failure. So now Sebastian loitered near the studio in which last night's murder had occurred as per his master's orders. He sighed and checked his pocket watch. _2:15. Honestly, master. Do you really intend for me to wait for the killer here all day?_

 _This is the punishment for your disappointing performance last night. If you do not find the murderer like I ordered you to, the consequences will be far more painful than simply standing and waiting in broad daylight._

Sebastian leaned against the wall and crossed his arms. The woman wouldn't think to operate in the daytime, would she? So really he was wasting his time. Ciel gave him a mental scoff at that.

 _Do you not remember that a good portion of the murders occurred during the day? Really, Sebastian. You're becoming more and more pathetic lately._

 _I merely reflect my master—_ There! Just down that alleyway! The ravenette stared at her, breathtaken by her beauty. His visions of her had not prepared him for the version of her in real life. She grinned at him, beckoning him to come closer. He took a step… and another… and another….

Then she slipped away and he ran after her. He kept her in his sights as she led him down one alley, through a backstreet, around that corner— essentially the maze that was London. And as he ran, the mysterious music played in the background. Finally she ducked into an empty building and he followed, all the way up flights of stairs and into a dark studio the size of a ballroom.

The shadows hid her from his view, but he advanced on her. "You can't run for much longer."

"Silly boy, of course I can. I can certainly outrun you if I so chose."

"Why are you doing this? What reason do you have for killing innocent men?"

Her dark chuckle sent through him a shiver of fear.

Then she burst into dance, the studio lighting up with a red glow. Behind her danced women in black bodysuits, their faces covered with white masks that sported cruel smiles. The ensemble kicked, leapt, and spun in a display of immense energy and incredible speed. Sebastian found he could not tear his eyes away from them. The corps (or backup dancers, if you will) formed a circle around him that turned as they moved, and the leader slunk up to him. She fan-kicked around behind his back and rolled her body against his. Lightning-quick, she bit him on the neck, licked the blood that trickled from the wound, and kissed him on the cheek. She yanked on his tie and stepped away as wisps of darkness swirled around the young butler, transforming his clothes into a white shirt, red tie, black vest and trousers, and black leather dance shoes. Then she held out her hand to him.

"Dance with me."

He obliged and joined her in the frenzied choreography, swept away by the music. So lost was he, in fact, that when the music entered a quieter section, he was stunned at how spent he was. He tore away from the woman and went to the door— except there was no door. He glanced around in bewilderment at the four doorless, windowless walls and ceiling that defined the room. _What on earth?_

The woman began dancing again, and this time, his body moved on its own accord, performing the same steps as her. He fought against her puppetry, but she continued, pouring her dark power into him. At last, she broke through his resistance, and he leapt and danced like never before, the music's energy dictating his movements. As the music quieted, signaling the nearing end of the song, he stumbled and struggled, weak and choking for breath, his lungs and muscles on fire. The moment the song ended, everything went black.

* * *

"—ian… —astian… Sebastian!"

Sebastian gasped. He choked and coughed for air, his starving lungs protesting its absence.

"Sebastian. Can you hear me?"

The ravenette opened his eyes halfway and beheld his master's face. Ciel frowned. "Are you all right?"

He could not find the strength to answer, so he closed his eyes and slipped away into oblivion.

* * *

The next time he awoke, he lay in his bed in his room at the manor. Confused, he gazed up at the ceiling until his memory cleared.

 _That woman… She made me do what she forced the others to do…. Did I fall into her trap? Or was I a target all along?_

A knock on the door sounded, then Ciel entered the room. "Ah. Good. You're awake."

"M… M-Mast-ter…" Sebastian winced at his weak voice and the pain it took to speak. Ciel fetched a cup of water that stood on the bedside table and held it as he drank, then set it down when he was done.

"Master… what happened to… the killer?"

"The woman? She returned to her home in the shadow realm, or so the Reapers assure me. She's what known as a dansakunin yokai— an Oriental demon dancer. The Undertaker says her type of demon is more powerful than normal, which is why she nearly succeeded in killing you."

"But… I don't understand…. Her motive…"

Ciel sighed. "Apparently this particular yokai has committed the same crimes before, and she was locked away so that she wouldn't bring anymore harm. Unfortunately someone released her recently. They say she likes doing it for the troublemaking and mischief, and that she likes seeing pretty young men die at her hands. After she kills them, she rips apart their souls and cinematic records so that Reapers can't do their job properly."

"Sounds awful…"

"I agree, but hopefully we won't need to deal with her ever again." The teen stood and turned to leave. "Get back to health as quickly as you can. That's an order."

 _Yes. My lord._

* * *

 **I should probably mention that I came up with the dansakunin yokai- I have no idea if it actually exists in Japanese mythology. I made the name by combining the Japanese words for dance and malefactor;** **essentially, she's the Demon of Malevolent Dance. Something like that.**


End file.
